Age of the Fifth Sun
by Lily Lovett
Summary: Music doesn't always need lyrics. When Haley is with Brooke, she doesn't always need to have control. Baley
1. Worlds in Collision

Age of the Fifth Sun

**Author:** Lilylovett

**Disclaimer:** "One Tree Hill" the TV series © CW and its related entities. The title and subsequent chapter titles are from the album "Age of the Fifth Sun" by God Is an Astronaut. All rights reserved. There is no profit, aside from personal satisfaction here.

**Rating:** M, just to be safe.

**Summary: **Music doesn't always need lyrics. When Haley is with Brooke, she doesn't always need to have control.

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><p><em>1. Worlds in Collision<em>

Haley didn't want to remember who she was or what deep shit her life seemed to be in.

She didn't want to be reminded of the tour bus or basketball or Chris Keller or her husband. She just wanted to forget and live for another night, so that perhaps the next day she could find it in herself to have the strength and knowledge to fix the broken ties.

It scared Haley when the thought crossed that she didn't want anything to return to the way it was.

Yeah, her life had been so damn comfortable and predictable when she was so in love with Nathan and Chris Keller was just an asshole. All of that made sense, but she didn't feel that way anymore. She didn't know what had changed.

If she could sum her emotions in one word, she'd just write _ambiguous_.

And now that she had returned to Tree Hill "to get Nathan back", all she could think of was the best brand to drink, to avoid the situation.

It was all okay, though, because when she looks at Brooke, she feels lighter and her inner turmoil is lost. Maybe it's because she trusts Brooke, and Brooke knows how to let Haley forget.

"Hey, Tutor Girl, you know we don't have to do this. I honestly have no objection to a girls' night in, hooked to the television, abusing ice-cream and cheesy romance movies," She looks away from the mirror, and directly at the other girl. She has this fleeting intensity in her eyes that Haley has never really seen before, but she likes it.

"I know, but if I'm honest, I just want to forget this whole rift-in-my-teenage-marriage problem for tonight."

"Whatever ya say. But you know you're going out with Brooke Davis, and I don't mess around when it comes to good house parties." Brooke winks and grins, the look in her eyes gone. Haley wonders why her heart is being weird. It's beating faster, and she thinks maybe Tutor Girl is just excited to intentionally get wasted.

Their dresses are dark and sleek, hair in place, and heels high enough dominate.

As the car speeds through the empty streets, Haley almost asks Brooke to keep driving. The sound of their breathing has lapsed their conversation into a comfortable silence. The dashboard is glowing, and the streetlights race by. Haley is fascinated by the beauty of it, and she wonders how she had never noticed before.

The car abruptly stops at the designated house. Vibrations can be felt from their position, and it amazes Haley that the neighbors have not already shut the party down.

"Hey," Brooke is looking at her again with _that look _she had before. Haley wonders why it's so prevalent tonight. She muses that maybe it's Brooke's game face, in her quest to get laid by some random hot guy.

"If you wanna leave, I promise I'll get your ass outta there before I get wasted." The declaration surprises Haley, and she feels guilty for a moment at her previous notions, and then doesn't know how to respond, because Brooke's perfume is distorting her mind.

They embrace, and then enter the house that reeks of alcohol and strangers.

It's hardly been thirty minutes, and already Brooke has gone off with some random hot guy and Haley has actually got a buzz going on. The chair in the corner aside the table of drinks has been especially helpful to her, because she is able to avoid social interaction, while hoarding any of the liquor bottles before her, at will.

But then the music beats, and her bones feel it.

Its familiarity to her is so swift, she finds herself colliding with people she has never met and not minding it at all. Less than dancing, it is swerving and moving to a rhythm that echos within each person. Haley would normally object to such physical closeness with someone she's never met, but this hardly phases her.

One girl that's been near her the whole night, gently takes her wrist and Haley's not sure why but she vaguely trusts her. She's brunette and the girl sort of reminds her of Brooke. The girl takes her out onto the back porch and sits her down at a wicker chair.

"Hi, my name's not important." Haley is looking at the Fake Brooke's hands. There are tiny beads of sweat on her palms. "You look like you could use an L. I'm offering 'cause you look sorta like this girl I used to like. Stupid, yea. But no pressure."

The girl extracts a ziplock and thick rolling paper from her jacket pocket, and before Haley can be responsible and reject the offer, she finds herself reveling in another strange beauty of the night; the other girl's lips as she exhales and the haze rises. Haley is no longer buzzed, she is flying.

It's not a transcendent experience, but it does make her feel a bit more alive.

Her night has been moving so fast, and she has almost forgotten how she had gotten to the party. The mysterious Fake Brooke has long since left her on the porch, and Haley is cold. She takes a final drag and laughs at how silly it is. Perfect, straight-A Haley, who fell in love and got married in high school, toured the country, singing her heart out, is now out at night, looking to–and is successfully—get fucked up.

Her laugh is a harsh sound, and outside on the cold porch it is loud in her ears. She is startled when the real Brooke sits down next to her.

Haley is sedated by her scent, which has prevailed through the sweat of the many fratboys. And for no particular reason, it suddenly bothers Haley to imagine all of the boys who probably touched and grinded against an intoxicated Brooke.

These thoughts stray when Brooke looks at her and holds her close. Haley is warm, now.

"I think this was a bad idea," Brooke whispers into her neck. The words tickle and Haley hardly understands them, let alone is able to conjure a response. "But you know what, Tutor Girl? Let's just sit here. Together, for a while."

So, then Brooke has her arms wrapped around Haley's waist and they're both watching the fragile night turn bright with the sun. Their breathing becomes slow for a while, and when Haley tries to manage coherent thoughts, she fails and loses herself in Brooke's arms.

It is a perfect dawn in a stranger's backyard.


	2. In the Distance Fading

_2. In the Distance Fading_

Haley is greeted by the glorious sensation of her skull feeling as if it had been directly bashed in by a steel base-ball bat. Memories from the previous night pour into her conscience, and deter her from her migraine. She recalls how breathtaking it had been, and she finds herself wishing it hadn't ended.

Eradicating herself from her recollections, she crawls out of the bed and quickly withdraws clothes from her suitcase. The apartment smells, amazingly, of bacon and Haley would be damned if she'd miss Brooke Davis actually cooking.

"Am I dying or something?" Haley grins. "I never knew you could cook. Or rise before noon on a weekend."

"Yes, well I have many hidden talents," Brooke turns to her and returns the grin, "Tutor Girl."

"We're going to really have to come up with a new nickname..."

"Agreed, since you'll be living here for a while and all," And Brooke says it without any conviction. "Honestly, my parents don't give a damn as to what I do here."

The words sink into Haley and she feels light headed and happy. Being with Brooke seems like one of the better occurrences that have happened to her lately, and now living with her makes Haley feel more secure.

"Thanks Brooke, you don't know how much this means to me. Especially, while I'm in the midst of trying to pick up things with Nathan. You're an amazing friend." Attempting to lighten the conversation, she adds, "And I'll be sure to keep you in line—Brooke Davis, prepare to experience homework. Scary."

"Oh please, Haley. I was the one that brought you home last night, if I so do recall," Brooke rolls her eyes in mock annoyance and flips the bacon. It sizzles.

"Well, last night was an exception to everything. I was totally trying to rebel against my Tutor Girl stereotype," Haley laughs and Brooke does too.

"See? I'm contagious. I've got you attached to the nickname."

"Exactly why I was trying to rid myself of it last night."

Brooke whips out scrambled eggs, adding it to the cooked bacon, and toast on their plates. Haley wonders how many people have actually experienced her cooking and finds it incredibly endearing.

"Brooke, I think you've won my heart with this breakfast." And it wasn't much of an exaggeration either.

"Maybe I should apply for perfect, slutty housewife of the year award."

"You wouldn't be slutty if you were mine," Haley says it quite naturally. The conversation had already turned ludicrous, but when she contemplates the statement for a moment it makes her heart quiver. Haley cannot make out why, though, because she knows it's just banter.

It's not until she looks into her coffee mug and remembers that Nathan prefers his black, that she feels an onset of guilt. She knows that instead of messing around with Brooke, she should be adamantly pursing her husband. Haley touches her wedding ring, assuring that it is still there and half-hoping it isn't.

The band shines with the light from the morning sun.

It's a cloudy day, and Nathan feels that it suits his anger. He's tearing up his new Nike's on the river court. When he stops dribbling for a moment, he feels the silver chain press against his chest. The weight of the ring is heavier than its ever been, gnawing at his mind and heart.

He's gotten word that Haley's back in Tree Hill, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. Hell, he hasn't known how to deal with any of it. Part of him knows that Haley was following her dreams with the tour, and he shouldn't stop that. But it seemed like he had no place in her dreams.

The concrete was solid and made sense, unlike his marriage which seemed to be fading far from what it once was.

It took four baskets, until a certain squinty-eyed brother approached him.

"Nathan, can I talk to you?"

"You already are," Nathan says, knowing he can't avoid this little pep-talk that Lucas is about to give. He starts slamming the ball harder than before, acting pissed off when he knows that he actually needs some kind of advice.

"Haley's back. And I know you're pissed at her, but you know that she came back to Tree Hill, now, for you," Lucas is confident in what he's saying entirely, because he believes he knows Haley more than anyone else.

"I get all of that, Luke, but it doesn't really make it any easier on me." Nathan wipes his forehead on his shoulder. "Just, let's play."

"Okay, but promise me you'll come to TRIC tonight. There's this concert and I know Haley will be there." He's staring Nate down, who refuses to return glances. "Give her a chance."  
>"Sure, why the Hell not?" He spits at Lucas.<p>

It's the river court, and their game is intense. Nathan hasn't always been playing here, but he's come to understand it the way Lucas does; no pressure.

His love for the game drives him to beat Lucas and he determines, by the end of it, that he doesn't want to hurt Haley like she hurt him. But has this feeling in his gut that he probably will.

He already feels like a hypocritical asshole, but isn't that a park of the Dan Scott gene?

"This is way too damn beautiful for you _not _to buy," Brooke's voice is brimming with exciting. "Beats those nasty old ponchos by a hundred-thousand miles."

Haley looks at herself in the mirror and ponders what she has gotten herself into, by shopping with Brooke. She has never tried on so many clothes in her life, let alone so many outfits which were either excessively low-cut, or tight, or too short, or see-through, or had some feature to make her look like a man's wet dream.

But this time she sort of agrees with Brooke, because it _is_ a gorgeous dress.

"I really like it, too. But honestly, no article of clothing is more reliable than a poncho."

"Oh please, Haley. You can tutor in a dress, too."

"Hopefully not this dress," Haley is tempted to rip it off her body and run far, far away from the store when she reads the price tag. "It's two-hundred eighty dollars. That's a lot of money."

"Not when you're winning back your man. Considering this my gift to you." Brooke quickly digs out her credit card. "Really, I want to help if I can."

"Thanks, Brooke, but you really don't have to...You've already done so much for me." Then Brooke grabs her by the shoulders and Haley is glad no one else is near the dressing room, because she's starting to feel flushed and maybe embarrassed.

"Haley, listen to me. I want to do this for you. You are gonna put it on, we're gonna go to TRIC tonight, and you will get back your man." She sounds so sure of herself, that Haley nods in response, even though she can hardly think about the latter part of the plan being true. Really, she's getting distracted now with Brooke gripping her so closely.

"Good, now let's find some shoes."


End file.
